Anguish And Passion
by Notatracer
Summary: [Chasing Amy] *Complete* The night of the Bluntman & Chronic premiere, Banky breaks up with Hooper, sort of, and runs to the one who hurts him the most. The poor boy’s still in denial.
1. Embarrassed And Angry

a/n: what you need to know: this is the night of the _bluntman & chronic_ movie premiere from _j&sb strike back_, the long version of the scene actually where hooper gets rather descriptive about what they do at night and the tracer guy comes back. it's 1st person banky deep in denial, so you know what to expect. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I sat on the edge of the bed, my face buried in my hands. What was I doing?! Was that a sniffle? Jesus, shut up, Banky, before he hears you. A flicker followed by a flash of orange light. Hooper was lighting a cigarette. I knew it was coming. I could feel it.

"Oh I see how it is, it's quite all right for me to pleasure you nightly... but the minute I ask for a little something in return you get all weirded out. That old wall comes up. 'I'm not a faggot, Hoop.' Well, I got news for you, honey... you're a sista, so you better get used to the idea if you want me to let your tired white ass back into this bed anytime soon."

I sighed. He didn't understand. Just because I let a guy go down on me... just because I was in love with a man didn't make me a faggot. Did it? No. Hell no. I didn't lisp or get all girlie. I still thought chicks were sexy... I still got off on the idea of fucking a Catholic schoolgirl or two, while they said 'aboot' no less. I still... who was I kidding? My sex life was a joke. The little Neon that I'd driven for quite a few years hadn't seen any action in a long time. Come to think of it, the only action that car's ever seen didn't even involve me. Most of my stories were made up on the spot when Holden would come home with some sleazy tale, and then ask what I had done that night... _who_ I had done. What was I going to say? The truth? I don't think so. I wouldn't admit the truth to myself, let alone to him. While he was out hooking up with some random girl, I was doing my dirty deed back home and feeling guilty about it. It wasn't the old Catholic guilt either; I didn't really buy into all of that. It was the guilt of everything as a whole. Often times I'd be sitting around when I was alone on those nights he wouldn't let me go out with him. I didn't go on my own because I didn't want to go without him. Thoughts would creep into my head, so I'd start to drink a little in the vain hope it'd wash those thoughts away. Often times than not, it would make it worse. I would lose my common sense and go into his room. There would always be a dirty t-shirt lying on the floor as if it were waiting for me to go smell it, which I did quite happily. Then, I'd find myself lying on his bed, pants down around my knees, thinking about him... about us. Idly wishing he'd come home and ravish me. Though I knew that if he ever caught me jerking off on his bed even if by some slight chance he was into it, I'd be like a deer caught in the fucking headlights. I'd be just embarrassed and angry... my usual idiot self. 

We hadn't seen each other in years, not since the comicon... that is until tonight. It was unavoidable, but I was with Hooper and couldn't talk to Holden. Hooper.. fuck, how long had I been sitting there letting my mind wander? 

Hooper had let me move in with him after I left Holden. 'Left Holden', that makes it sound like we were a couple who broke up. Hooper was the one who took me in, let me cry on his shoulder... looked after me when I tried to do something really stupid. Holden fucking McNeil was many things, but I finally figured out that he wasn't worth killing myself over. Our so-called relationship, Hooper and mine, didn't turn sexual in any way, shape or form until shortly before I went to Hollywood. I'm not sure how exactly it got started, probably just some playful teasing one night... no doubt while he was once again unsuccessfully trying to convince me that Archie was fucking Mr. Weatherbee. I was lonely and horny, a dangerous combination, so I let him go down on me. Well, not let him like it was something that I granted permission for him to do. It just happened and I didn't care at that point whose mouth it was. That's all we've ever done though... several times, but that's it. It doesn't make me gay. I've never even kissed him. Well, he's kissed me a few times, but I've never kissed him. Despite what you may've heard, I don't kiss guys. I told him to stick his thumb in my ass last night, but that's not gay stuff... chicks have thumbs too.

Hooper has too much self-respect to be with me and I knew this was coming. Especially after tonight. I could see it in his eyes as soon as I hushed him; afraid someone would hear him and get the wrong idea. A half-second look that said he couldn't believe that I was so ashamed of our times together. He must've mistaken my loneliness for desire. I think he might have told me off right then and there had that fucking fanboy not interrupted us... that loser. I'm not a fucking tracer. I do so much more. Isn't it obvious by now? I am NOT A TRACER! Jesus! Some people are slow to pick up on shit like that. Maybe it's good that he interrupted us though, I don't think what Hooper was going to say would've been pleasant. 

Then here we were, I was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing my Madman shirt and Superman boxers, my face still in my hands. He was lying behind me, no doubt staring a hole into my back... wearing nothing but a scowl so strong I could feel it. After the incident outside the theater, I guess he wanted to test me. I don't know... I honestly don't fucking know. I had climbed into bed, expecting our usual stuff but instead was greeted by him kissing and touching me. I got lost in the moment. It had been a long time since someone made me feel so good. The room was dark so it was easy to forget. It was exhilarating and I felt lightheaded. Some of it is a blur. I just know that sometime during the course of all that kissing, I ended up on my stomach. He was breathing into my ear, one of his arms was under me across my chest with his hand holding onto my shoulder... I didn't know where the other arm was. I was confused. He was laying on top of me, crushing me into the bed... which was more than a little uncomfortable considering how turned on I was. But, it was just a natural reaction to everything; it was definitely not because he was a guy. And, then, that's when it happened. I felt his dick brush up again my leg... that's it nothing more.. and before my freaked out brain could register what to do, the most girlish noise escaped from me and I came. Just from _it_ touching my leg. My face felt hot, I was embarrassed and angry... angry with him for doing this to me, angry with myself. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hit him or cry or run away or just start yelling, I didn't know what to do. So many possibilities came at me at once that I did none of them. 

I lay there with my face buried in the pillow; he was beside me. I was expecting him to make fun of me, but he didn't. He didn't say a word for what felt like forever.

"It's okay, Banky. It's natural to be nervous your first time."

"No..." I said muffled into the pillow.

"No what?"

He put his hand on my back and I rolled over. I looked up at him; my eyes were stinging a little bit.

"It's not natural. I'm not a faggot, Hoop."

He shook his head at me. As an afterthought, I added, "I'm sorry."

I wasn't sorry. I was sorry if I lead him on, but I wasn't sorry that I wasn't his boyfriend... or fuck buddy, whatever category I would have fallen under had I been gay. Which I'm not. He didn't say anything again until after I had moved over to sit on the edge of the bed with my face buried in my hands. He said something about my 'tired white ass'. 

I had to get out of there. I didn't bother to change my shorts; I just had to leave. That always seems to be my solution to these things, run away. I pulled my pants on, then sat down on the edge of the bed to tie my shoes.

"Where are you going at this hour?"

"Someplace else."

That's all I could say. I wasn't exactly sure myself.


	2. Tonight Of All Nights

It was raining. Of all nights for it to rain. I drove my little Neon around for a while, no real destination in mind. Before long, I realized that I was headed straight towards Jersey. Straight, hah. Hardly an appropriate word for this night. I knew where I had to go, regardless if I wanted to or not... Potzers Inc... home of Holden fucking McNeil. 

I sat in the car, just outside his place for at least an hour. There were no lights or other signs of life coming from inside. I thought he must be asleep, or with any luck not at home. I reached up to push my hat down, sort of my nervous habit, only to remember that I'd left without it. fuck. I had a flannel shirt laying on the backseat, so I grabbed it to use as a makeshift umbrella and headed out into the rain. The shirt didn't help at all. By the time I reached the door, I was completely soaked. 

I knocked, no answer. I knocked again, still no answer. I turned to leave when I heard the sound of a dead bolt. I turned back just in time to see a very sleepy looking Holden open the door. He looked beautiful standing there in the moonlight. Um, I mean, beautiful in a manly totally hetero kind of way. Just the light from the moon was beautiful. You see... aw, fucking forget it.

"Banky?"

He was still half-asleep, but at least he recognized me. I think I nodded, like yeah dumbass it's me.

"Come in, Bank. Get out of the rain."

I walked in and immediately began to shiver. He shut the door behind us. That rain was so cold, then walking into a room piping with central air was almost unbearable. 

"You're shivering."

"Always one to state the obvious."

At least that's what I tried to say, but I think it came out more of a haphazard collection of 'aaaatttttt otttttttt ttttt'. He took the flannel shirt from me so he could wring it out in the bathroom. He brought me back out a towel. Instead of handing it to me however, he clumsily tossed it onto my head and started to rub frantically trying to dry my hair for me. After all this time, he was still the dutiful friend. May not be the smartest man on Earth, but he had his thoughtful moments of generosity. However, he got carried away and pushed my head a little too far to the right, forgetting about Mr. Svenning having fucked my neck up.

"Ow! Goddammit, Holden... are you trying to kill me?"

He sort of chuckled and moved the towel down to my arms. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with all this attention, and, well, rubbing. Before I could tell him to stop, the towel slipped, and his bare hand rubbed against my arm. I shivered again, but this time not because of the cold. We looked at each other for a split second before immediately looking away. He handed me the towel.

I went about the task of drying my own self off, not feeling right about the way Holden was watching me... but whatever. I wanted to sit down, but I didn't want to get his furniture wet. I leaned against the table instead.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to tell him why. I wasn't sure why. I wasn't sure about a lot of things. He moved closer to me, closer than he should have. I have an area around me my friends call the 'Banky Space' and you do not go within the 'Banky Space' unless you want to get cursed the fuck out. With few exceptions, only Holden was allowed in my personal space. What?! He was my best friend. _Was _my best friend. Stupid manipulative fucker who hit me one too many times is what he is now. He looked kinda odd, staring at me with those sleepy eyes; minus a van dyke... only a five o'clock shadow. I missed the van dyke, not the dyke, the van dyke, big difference. There was a smell coming off of him, a familiar one I couldn't quite place. It was a sweet smell, mixed with the unmistakable beer breath.

"Banky, listen, I just wanted to apologize for everything. I was thoughtless."

"Not going to argue there."

"I've missed you so much. Let me make it up to you, please. Let me..."

He never finished the sentence because he leaned forward and kissed me. He kissed me; I didn't kiss him. I don't kiss guys. All this time, I'd never forgotten what his kiss felt like. I can't even describe it. This one lasted only slightly longer than the one years ago because almost as soon as his tongue found it's way into my mouth, the bottom dropped out, you could say.

"Holden, are you coming back to..."

We both turned and looked at the same time, guilt plastered all over both our faces. I don't know why I looked guilty; I hadn't done anything. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was none other than Alyssa Jones, complete with shorts and one of Holden's shirts on. 

"...fuck..." I heard Holden whisper under his breath.

She stared at us, mouth open, before yelling, "You asshole!" then storming off into I assume the bedroom and slamming the door.

I didn't know what to say. This was one of those few times I was stunned to silence.

"We started talking after the premiere... and, well, one thing lead to another... Why'd you have to come here tonight?"

I couldn't look at him. I had to get as far away from his as possible. As I moved from around him, he touched my arm. I slapped it away from me.

"Don't... don't fucking touch me!"

"Banky, listen.. please don't go. We could..."

"We could what... fuck each other? You live in your own fucking dream world. You can't have both of us. Fuck, you can't even have either of us."

"Banky... I..."

"Leave me alone."

I went back out into the cold rain. It was coming down so hard I could barely see in front of me. I sat in my car. I couldn't drive, not with the rain... with the way I felt. I sat there, hoping that he would come outside. But, once again, he didn't come after me. I sat there for over an hour, staring at the door trying to will him to come out. To prove that I meant something to him. I put my arms across the steering wheel and laid my head down on them. The last thing I remember thinking before I drifted off to sleep was that apparently only Silent Bob had a handle on the Jedi Mind Tricks... I couldn't even will a door to open.

I don't know how long I was out for, but I was awakened by the sound of my passenger door slamming. I looked up expecting Holden, but instead I found Alyssa sitting in the seat next to me. She had that bitter look as if she'd been sucking on a lemon.

"Take me home."

I looked out the window. The rain had all but stopped. I looked back over at her. She somehow managed a smile at me. I sat up, shrugged, and said the only word that came to my mind.

"Sure."


End file.
